Beer and Bible
by desperate4grace
Summary: After Bree's confrontation with Rev. Sykes at Murray's
1. Chapter 1

Spoilery / Just for fun, I own nothing.

After Bree's encounter with Reverend Sykes at the bar ep 812

Bree sat at the bar staring at the half empty wine glass, a wine glass that was hers. Despite her protestations and her best attempts to cover things up she had failed. Again. Loss and failure. Loss and failure. Misstep after misstep. She realized how incredibly tired she had become. Her latest adventures had been entertaining and very distracting, but she was still sitting at the bar, unable in moments of quiet to escape the feeling of being a failure and a blight. She picked up the glass and took a drink. It was best to occupy herself before she began to cry in public.

Josh Peterson had been sitting with a few of his friends at their regular table, chatting about the football game, when he noticed what could only have been a minister arguing with the lady sitting at the bar. Arguing was perhaps too strong of a word, but she didn't look happy, and it bothered him. The minister left and he watched the woman. Her body language did not imply distress, but there was something about the way she held her head, her neck ramrod straight, but her face bent to the bar, that betrayed her unease. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he had to say something. He excused himself from his friends, happy that they had ignored the exchange and practically ignored his retreat as they heatedly discussed the merits of the SEC. He didn't need their catcalls to bruise this woman further. They were good guys, but they liked to tease.

He approached the bar, and took the stool next to the woman. She didn't notice.

"Hi," he offered.

Bree looked at the man who sat next to her, trying to make a decision. She definitely needed to escape from her thoughts, but was she up to acting?

She decided to try to salvage the evening. "Hello." She smiled, "How are you?"

Josh was surprised by the seemingly sudden transformation. She appeared confident and cool, a little brazen even. "I'm doing well. I couldn't help but notice the minister." He hesitated. "How are you?"

"Oh, Reverend Sykes doesn't approve of my," she paused and picked up the wine glass, "extracurricular activities. A bit of a prude, you know."

"I gathered, but what he said seemed to bother you quite a bit. Want to talk about it?"

Bree again looked at the man who sat next to her, trying to make a decision. Escapism or sincerity. Her stare and pause seemed to fluster the man. He squirmed on his stool.

"I'm Josh by the way. " He extended his hand, and Bree took it.

"Bree. Would you like to get a table, Josh?"


	2. Chapter 2

Now it was Josh's turn to hesitate. He glanced back at his friends. They were completely wrapped up in an argument. Nathan stood to make a point, his arms gesturing broadly around the table, then pointing to the flat screen television. Sam was laughing at him. Josh turned back to Bree, and nodded to their table, "I doubt my friends will miss me anytime soon, although I'll warn you, I am not responsible for anything they say once they notice I'm missing." He paused, his face suddenly serious again. "You should also know they all lie." He half grinned, stood, and started walking toward a booth at the side of the room.

As she stood, Bree couldn't help but genuinely smile at his obviously good-natured assessment of his friends. "Really? About what?" She left money for the bartender and grabbed her clutch.

"Anything that might embarrass me in front of a lady."

Bree's face fell for the briefest of moments. _And now I've made you a liar_, she thought, before she recovered with a smile as he turned back to her. "Charmer." She glanced at his friends across the room, hoping to distract him. "What are they arguing about?"

"The football game. Nathan went to Alabama, and Sam went to Georgia. They're best friends now, but they'll never get over it."

Bree smiled once again as she sat down. She couldn't help but think of the many long standing arguments she held with Lynnette and Gaby, over the necessity of slips, proper place settings, and crude language. Susan rarely argued with her, but Bree could scarcely remember a time when her friend had followed her advice when it came to issues of comportment and propriety. She realized that all her arguments seemed preposterous given her recent transgressions. If they ever spoke to her again, she would never win any of those debates. She glanced at Josh. He was studying her. "How long have you been friends?"

Josh could tell that Bree was stalling and distracted by whatever was bothering her, but also that she needed to know the answer to the question. He wondered about the worry and sadness he could see in her eyes. "I've known Nathan since high school, but I met Hafez at church, and Jeff and Sam at work. We've probably all been friends for about 8 years." He thought she might bristle at the mention of church, but it didn't seem to trouble her.

She tilted her head slightly and smiled. She glanced at him briefly before looking back at her drink. "That's wonderful," she said quietly.

Josh watched as Bree pressed her lips together and schooled her features, attempting to hide the almost tears he had seen there. She glanced at her watch. "Oh, I hate to be rude, Josh, but I really must get home. Some other time?" She stood and looked anywhere but at him as she picked up her clutch and adjusted the salt and pepper shakers that sat at the edge of the table.

"That was quick. What was it about my friends that upset you?"

Bree looked at him. Josh was a mystery. This man could clearly see through her act. As their eyes met, she realized that he completely understood what she was doing, masking her pain with bravado and medicating it with alcohol. What surprised her was that she saw no censure there. He did not appear baffled, exasperated, or even bothered by her quick ultimatum. There was something in his acceptance of her that reminded her of Orson when things had been good.

She sat back down quietly. "I once had friends like yours."


End file.
